


I'm a Fool for You

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt!Stiles, M/M, Minor Character Death, Partial Memory Loss, Witches, there is also a terrible plan involved, they're all idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So this is probably a bad idea” she said, crossing the room to stand next to Derek. He shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his face. </p><p>“You’re just coming to that conclusion now?” Emily returned a smile at that, coming to rest next to the older man. </p><p>“Well, I’m not exactly sure that Stiles is as smart as this plan gives him credit for.”</p><p>“He’s smarter than you know.”</p><p>“And how is that you seem to know my twin better than I do?” Emily retorted, scratching at her arm. Derek laughed, laying a hand over hers to stop her from drawing blood. </p><p>“I pay attention.” </p><p>***</p><p>Or the AU where Stiles has a twin sister</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bad, No Good, Terrible Plan

**Author's Note:**

> This nearly killed me, please like it. And be patient with updates. Please. 
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine

“So this is probably a bad idea” she said, crossing the room to stand next to Derek. He shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

“You’re just coming to that conclusion now?” Emily returned a smile at that, coming to rest next to the older man. 

“Well, I’m not exactly sure that Stiles is as smart as this plan gives him credit for.”

“He’s smarter than you know.”

“And how is that you seem to know my twin better than I do?” Emily retorted, scratching at her arm. Derek laughed, laying a hand over hers to stop her from drawing blood. 

“I pay attention.” 

***

Stiles wakes up in a daze, still shaking off one of the weirdest dreams he’s had since the Nogitsune. Turning over, he sees that the clock is telling him he very, very late for school. He scrambles out of bed, wondering why on earth Emily didn’t wake him up. He had never needed an alarm clock, seeing as she always shook him awake demanding a ride to school. 

Being twins, they were the same age, and therefore both old enough to drive, but Emily had never wanted to. She had always been afraid, the circumstances of their mother’s death haunting her. She had once confessed to him that she was worried that she would get into an accident just like the family that had died the same night as their mother. 

“I don’t want to steal time from anyone.” she had said, and Stiles had known exactly what she meant. He didn’t blame the family for his dad missing their mother’s last moments, but he couldn’t help the resentment that pooled inside him when he thought about it. 

Shaking out of his memories, he pulls on the only pair of jeans he can find that don’t smell like death, and his coveted ‘Stud Muffin’ t-shirt. Grabbing his backpack and cellphone, he runs downstairs to grab breakfast before he has to leave. 

As he dives into a bowl of Cheerios, he thinks back to his dream from the night before.

***

_He’s running, and must have been doing so for a long time because his legs are aching and his lungs are on fire. The forest is a blur around him, branches slapping his face, and twigs catching his ankles. There’s low growl coming from behind him, and he knows instantly that it isn’t friendly. As tired as he is, he pushes harder, trying desperately to get his legs to carry him further away from whatever is chasing him. ___

_He runs for what feels like days, his vision is blurred, his mouth tastes like blood, but he runs, knowing whatever is chasing him is far worse than the pain he’s feeling. Just as he’s sure he’s going to black out, the growling stops, silence falling over the woods. Hesitantly, Stiles stops running, turning in a slow circle. Seeing nothing, he sighs, leaning up against a nearby tree for support. ___

_His breathing is just starting to even out when he hears a branch snap above him. He looks up, eyes resting on a pair of red dots staring back at him. The more he looks, he realizes that he’s was looking at a figure of a man. ‘I’m the alpha now.’ The figure says, leaning down. The last thing he saw in the dream was Derek, fangs extended, eyes as red as the blood on his clothes. ___

***

Stiles shudders at the memory, choosing instead to focus his attention on his breakfast. He chews his cereal and wonders idly if he should tell Derek about his dream. The older man was more experienced with the supernatural, but he was also frequently dismissive of Stiles’ theories. He weighs his options quietly, the thought of Derek reminding him to check his phone, and he finds two texts from the ex-Alpha. 

**From: Sourwolf  
7:35am ******

Pack meeting tonight. Be here at 7. 

**From: Sourwolf  
7:40am ******

Bring Emily. 

Stiles stares at the texts, re-reads them twice to make sure he didn’t misread them. His mouth hangs open, his mind drawing a blank. The short, pointed messages aren’t unusual, in fact, when Stiles gets a text from Derek with more than three words he panics a little bit. It’s the part about Emily that freaks him out a little. 

Emily hates Derek. She had decided this the minute she met him, and okay, Stiles can sympathize. The circumstances of their introduction had been less than ideal. Emily had walked into Stiles’ room without knocking, like she always did, to find Stiles pinned against the wall, Derek’s hand wrapped firmly around his neck. She didn’t scream, didn’t freak out, just grabbed the baseball bat behind Stiles’ door and slammed it into Derek’s back with something akin to a war cry. That had been the night Stiles was forced into an extremely awkward talk with his sister about werewolves, while Derek hovered in the corner like Boo Radley. Emily never forgave Derek for that night, and after one pack meeting filled with her attacking everything Derek said, she had never been invited back.  
Hence, Stiles’ intense confusion at the invitation she was receiving now. Scott had always been adamant that Emily was pack, she was just as much family to him as Stiles was, but Derek had never felt the same way. He was just as hostile towards her as she was towards him, the two of them were always fighting about something. Every time she showed up during a crisis, Derek would tell her to leave, and she would stand her ground with cutting remarks about his obvious aversion to strong women. 

It frustrated Stiles to no end, he just wished they would get along. Derek had slowly become one of his closest friends, though he was sure Derek would never classify their relationship as a friendship, and he wished Emily could see that he had changed. He wasn’t the same man as he was before, he had softened, slowly become accustomed to having people care about him. 

Stiles shakes his head, returning a text to Derek. 

**To: Sourwolf  
8:45am ******

Okay. 

He gets up, heading upstairs to brush his teeth. He reaches Emily’s room, directly across the hall from his, and decides to make sure she doesn’t need a ride.

“Emily?” he calls, knocking. No answer. He knocks again, louder. When there’s still no answer, he decides to risk castration and opens the door. He looks around tentatively, making sure there’s no risk of being attacked by an angry sister, but the room is empty. Her bed is made, her backpack is gone, there’s no sign of her. “Huh.” he breathes, then shrugs. She probably left early for some reason. 

He’s out the door five minutes later, backpack slung over one shoulder. He doesn’t give a second thought to Emily’s morning absence until second period. 

***

_Emily had intended for it to be a confrontation. She was sick and tired of Derek treating her like a child. She was eighteen, she could take of herself, goddamit. Besides, he never seemed to have a problem with Stiles coming on their little werewolf adventures, why was she any different? Stiles’ only defense was a baseball bat, whereas Emily had long since gotten Allison to teach her how to throw knives, had Kira teach her to wield a sword. Scott was teaching her hand to hand combat, and Isaac was teaching her evasive maneuvers. She was well prepared to fight, but Derek wouldn’t let her, and while he wasn’t technically the Alpha anymore, Scott still listened to him. It was infuriating. ___

_She was on the elevator fuming when she heard the noise coming from the loft. There was glass breaking, and she could distinctly hear Derek cursing. ___

_The elevator shuddered to a stop, and she stepped off tentatively, not wanting to interrupt a fight. Shakily, she approached the sliding door that led into the loft. She was reaching toward the handle when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. ___

_“Never pegged you for a cradle robber, Derek.” Emily frowned. That was definitely Peter’s voice, but he had been gone for months. When had he returned? Another crash, followed by Peter’s laughter. “Don’t worry, my dear nephew, I’m not judging. He does have a sort of… appeal.” ___

_Crash. ___

_“See, this is why I didn’t tell you.” Derek spat, breathing heavily. ___

_“It’s not my fault Cora has a big mouth. Besides, Stiles is eighteen. There’s nothing stopping you.” Peter returned, and Emily stopped short. If she had been following this conversation properly, her suspicions about Derek’s less than platonic interest in her twin were being confirmed. This was officially the best day of her life. ___

_“Listen, I don’t want to have this conversation with you.” Derek sighed. Realizing the beautiful opportunity she had been given to make an entrance, Emily threw open the door. ___

_“Then maybe you should have it with me.” ___

***

Stiles is half asleep on his desk as Ms. Morell lectures in French when he hears it. His head perks up at the telltale sound of an engine roaring into the school parking lot, but that’s not what bothers him. He recognizes that engine, and there is no reason for it to be pulling up in front of the school. 

He turns to the window, curious as to why Derek’s car is at the highschool where is he most definitely not a student. The black Camaro glides to a stop just in front of the main double doors, in perfect view from where Stiles is sitting. He stares with rapt attention, waiting for Derek to get out of the car. But it isn’t Derek who gets out. To Stiles’ surprise, the passenger door opens first, and holy shit. That is his sister stepping out of the passenger side. That is Emily, in Derek Hale’s car. What the hell. 

“What the hell.” he says, this time to Scott, who is also watching the scene with a confused expression on his face. Scott only widens his eyes, turning back to the window. Derek is sliding out of the driver’s side, dressed in his typical leather jacket and jeans combo. But he’s also wearing something he rarely does; a smile.  
He steps around the car to wrap his hands around Emily’s waist, pulling her close to him, and okay, this is not funny. Stiles whips back around to face Scott, whose mouth is now wide open. 

“Listen to what they’re saying.” he commands. Scott nods, and closes his eyes to focus. So this must be why she wasn’t at home that morning. She was with Derek-freaking-Hale. The wheels are turning in Stiles’ head, but they’re not giving him any answers he likes. He refuses, on principle, to assume that his sister is dating Derek. For crying out loud, they hate each other! The last time they were in the same room together, Emily almost decapitated Derek with one of Kira’s swords. It had been passed off as an accident, but Emily had worn a smug grin the whole way home. 

“Oh god,” Scott breathes, wrinkling his nose.

“What?” Stiles yells, drawing the attention of the entire classroom. He ignores the stares, suddenly feeling nauseous. 

“Um,” Scott squirms, avoiding Stiles’ eyes. 

“C’mon Scott, I can handle it.”

“She was,” more squirming, “thanking him.”

“For?” Stiles asks, impatient. Scott is actually sweating now, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Uh,”

“Scott!”

“For… last night.”

Stiles gags, actually gags, and turns back around to see Derek climbing back into his car. Emily is standing at the curb, waving at the retreating vehicle, looking like, well, a teenage girl waving goodbye to her boyfriend. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers, a shiver going down his spine. His sister is dating Derek Hale. What the hell.

***

_Derek liked to think he was the kind of person who didn’t scare easily. Sure, he had a thing about fire, but who could blame him for that? The thing was, people didn’t scare him. Especially not humans. He tended not to fear things that he could tear apart with his teeth. But Emily Stilinski? Emily Stilinski scared the living shit out of him. He thought it was mostly because she wasn’t afraid of him. The first time he met her, he was holding her brother up against a wall with one hand, and her first instinct was to attack. He had never met someone who didn’t flinch at the sight of him. That wasn’t even the end of why she scared him, though. She was fierce, and she never backed down when he challenged her. She reminded him a little of Scott, in the way that she would do anything to protect those she loved. ___

_Naturally, when she walked in on his conversation with Peter about Stiles, he thought it was the end. He’d seen her with Kira’s sword, and he had half a mind to run for his life. ___

_“So,” she said, cutting off his panicked train of thought. “You’re in love with my brother.” ___

_Peter actually started laughing, and Derek tried to glare at him, but it only spurred him on. ___

_“Oh Emily,” Peter smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.” ___

_“Peter, you should go.” she replied, eyes cold. If there was anyone on this planet that Emily hated more than Derek, it was Peter. The smile fell from his face as he stalked out of the room, murmuring something about ‘self-righteous humans’. Derek watched him go, wishing he hadn’t been left alone in a room with Emily, but glad that Peter wasn’t going to witness his likely humiliating demise. Swallowing hard, he turned back to her, eyes meeting hers. There were a few beats of silence where she showed no emotion, just stared at him, but then her face broke into a broad smile that had never been directed at Derek before. He blinked, sure she was just happy to have an excuse to kill him. ___

_“I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out.” she said, smiling even wider. Derek blinked again. What? “You two have been making eyes at each other for months, the whole pack is running bets on who was going to confess first. Isaac totally owes me ten bucks.” ___

_Derek didn’t say anything, just stared as she approached him. She walked down the stairs towards him, and was about a foot away when he stopped her. ___

_“Wait.” he said, voice rough. Emily frowned, but stepped back. “You’re wrong.” Emily’s frown deepened, but she didn’t say anything. “Stiles doesn’t feel the same way. He has a thing for Lydia, he never shuts up about her.” He was about to continue the long list of reasons why Stiles was not in love with him when Emily started laughing. ___

_It was Derek’s turn to frown, but it was more out of confusion than annoyance. Was she laughing at his pain? Did she think it was funny that he was pining after an eighteen year old? ___

_“You’re an idiot.” Derek raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. “He may not know it yet, but that kid has a serious thing for you. I can’t imagine why, but I guess he has a thing for brooding and leather.” ___

_“How does that help me?” It came out more like whine than he intended, but he continued. “If he doesn’t know he has feelings for me, he’s not going to act on them.” ___

_“Oh, Derek. Don’t you worry. I’ve got a plan.” ___

***

**To: Twin  
12:33pm ******

what the hell?

**From: Twin  
12:35pm ******

hello to you too stiles

**To: Twin  
12:37pm ******

so...you and derek?

**From: Twin  
12:39pm ******

none of your beeswax baby bro

**To:Twin  
12:40pm ******

i was born five minutes after you 

**From:Twin  
12:43pm ******

like i said 

**To: Worst Sister Ever  
12:45pm ******

i hate you

**From: Worst Sister Ever  
12:47pm ******

kisses

Stiles rolls his eyes at the message, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he takes his seat next to Scott in the cafeteria. Scott doesn’t say anything, just lays a comforting hand on his shoulder as Stiles slams his head into the table. 

“So,” Issac smirks, claiming the seat across from him. “Your sister is sleeping with Derek. Shame, I always thought I’d get there first.” Stiles raises his head, mouth open. 

“Isaac,” Scott warns as Erica and Boyd slide into their usual seats next to Issac. Issac throws his hands up in defense, but the smile never leaves his lips. There’s a small silence before Allison, Kira, and Lydia join them at the table, talking animatedly about the new English teacher. 

“He is officially the most beautiful man I have ever seen.” Lydia coos, to enthusiastic nods from the other girls. 

“He’s gorgeous,” Kira says, earning a soft whine from Scott. “But not as gorgeous as you.” she corrects, kissing Scott quickly, leaving a pleased smile on his face. The entire table groans, and Stiles begins to forget all about Emily and Derek. Of course, his life isn’t allowed to be that easy.

“Oh, are you guys talking about Mr. Parrish?” Emily says, taking a seat at the end of the table. 

“Yeah,” Allison replies excitedly.

Emily smiles in return, eyes widening. “He’s cute, alright. I mean, have you seen those eyes?” 

There’s a hum of approval from the girls at the table, and Stiles is pretty sure he sees Isaac nodding along, too. 

“What would Derek think?” Stiles tsks, causing Emily’s eyebrows to draw together. 

“He’s not the jealous type.” she returns evenly. “And besides, he has far more… interesting qualities than Parrish.” 

Stiles feel bile rise in his throat, and the rest of table snickers. 

“You walked into that one.” Kira says, giving him a sympathetic look, and Scott looks just as horrified as he feels. 

This is the worst thing that has ever happened to him. 

***


	2. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack meetings are, for the most part, pretty low key. 
> 
> Every Friday night, the pack gets together at Derek’s loft, sprawl out in front of the TV and watch movies. It’s quiet, with Stiles occasionally offering up trivia about the film to the general annoyance of the rest of the pack. It’s a routine, something Stiles has come to cherish. He appreciates the quiet nights where there’s no impending danger and the pack gets to pretend they’re normal teenagers. 
> 
> Tonight is not one of those nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a little hurt!stiles 
> 
> Again, un-beta'd so mistakes are mine

Pack meetings are, for the most part, pretty low key. 

Every Friday night, the pack gets together at Derek’s loft, sprawl out in front of the TV and watch movies. It’s quiet, with Stiles occasionally offering up trivia about the film to the general annoyance of the rest of the pack. It’s a routine, something Stiles has come to cherish. He appreciates the quiet nights where there’s no impending danger and the pack gets to pretend they’re normal teenagers. 

Tonight is not one of those nights. 

“Hey, babe.” Emily purrs, sauntering towards Derek as soon as she enters the loft. Derek returns a blinding grin, and Stiles is either going to punch him or cry. He hasn’t quite decided. Derek winds his arms around her, holding her tightly to him, kissing the top of her head. It makes something twist in Stiles’ gut, so he turns away before he has to watch any longer. 

“Scotty, my man.” he says, spotting Scott and Kira at what would be the dining room table if Derek had a dining room. Scott lifts his head and waves, but he doesn’t smile. “What’s wrong?” 

“There’s a new pack coming through.” Scott returns calmly. “We’re not sure what they’re up to, so we thought we’d talk about our options.” 

Stiles groans. “So no movie tonight?” 

“Sorry, bro.” Scott shakes his head sadly, patting Stiles on the shoulder. Stiles looks to where Emily and Derek are talking quietly, broad smiles on both their faces and winces. He’s going to have to put up with the PDA all night. 

He turns back to Scott and Kira, who are both giving him mournful expressions. 

“What?” he asks, but neither Scott or Kira answers, they just turn back to the table, where there are several maps laid out. “What are those?” 

“They’re maps of the preserve.” Derek explains, coming to rest next to Stiles, arm around Emily’s waist. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can see that, I meant what are they for?” 

“They’re to illustrate which territory belongs to our pack. What the boundaries are. That way we can decide where we’re weakest, what areas we have to defend if this incoming pack is hostile.” 

Stiles nods, turning back to the maps. “What’s this line here?” he asks, pointing to a dotted line that’s about three miles away from the Hale house. 

“That,” Derek says, laying his hand down next to Stiles’. “is the Eastern border. It stretches up North to the edge of the preserve, here.” Derek moves his hand along the line, brushing up against Stiles, letting his touch linger. It sends a shiver up his arm, like an electric current under his skin. 

“Subtle as ever, dear nephew.” Peter drawls, stepping into the room. Stiles pulls his hand away quickly, taking a step back from Derek. 

“So, this new pack. Should we be worried?” he interjects, hoping that no one besides Peter noticed the exchange. A quick glance around the table confirms his hopes, through he notices a small frown on Derek’s face. Huh. He’ll analyze that later. 

Right now, he needs to focus on the new pack. Not on the way Derek is slowly inching closer to him again, how he can feel the heat radiating from his body. Or the way his own skin is itching, craving those last few inches so he can just - and okay he needs to shut that down. 

“I don’t think so.” Peter answers, eyeing Stiles suspiciously. “I knew Tanya, the Alpha, when I was younger; she’s never been a violent woman. My guess is she’s only passing through.” 

“And if she isn’t?” Boyd asks from the other end of the table, his usual stoic expression in place. “What’s our plan?” 

“Scott?” Derek asks, looking at the younger boy. “It’s your call.” 

All eyes turn to Scott, who, for all his efforts to conceal it, looks like he’s about to crack under the pressure. Stiles lays a hand on his arm, eliciting a weak smile. 

“Um, okay.” he starts, glancing around the table. “I agree with Derek, it’s important to know where we’re weak. Once we know that, we can start working on a strategy to defend.” 

Derek nods approvingly, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“So how do we figure out where we’re weak?” Emily asks, and it makes Stiles jump. For a minute, he forgot she was even there. She throws him a dirty look, but continues. “I mean, where did the Alpha pack come through? Because we didn’t even come close to stopping them.” 

“They attacked us just outside the Hale property line.” Erica chimes in, hand instinctively touching her hip. Stiles knows she has a scar there - it hadn’t healed properly because of who inflicted it - and she always touches it when she talked about the attack. 

Boyd confirms the location, which leads to some more conversation about where the pack can defend themselves. Stiles tries to pay attention, but he’s distracted by the way Emily and Derek are touching each other. It’s not disgusting, it’s barely even sexual. It’s more like she’s comforting him, like he’s looking to her for reassurance, for guidance. He has his hand wrapped around hers, and she’s rubbing circles on his hand with her thumb, like she’s soothing him. 

It’s not unlike how he and Emily behaved at their mother’s funeral. 

Huh. 

“We should set up patrols.” Derek is saying, to murmurs of agreement from the pack. 

“We should go in pairs.” Scott adds. “Just to be safe.” 

“I’ll go with Isaac.” Emily says, earning a wink from the blonde that’s got Stiles wondering just how many pack members his sister is dating. 

“Wouldn’t you rather go with Derek?” he teases, smirking at Emily.

She grins back wickedly, hooking an arm around Derek. “I don’t think we’d be very productive.”

Derek smiles, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“Ugh, nevermind, go with Isaac.” Stiles groans, waving his hand in defeat. 

The rest of the pack pairs off; Boyd with Erica, Scott with Kira, Allison with Lydia, leaving Stiles, Derek and Peter behind. 

“Um, no offense, but I’m not up for a night out in the forest with Uncle Bad Touch over there.” Stiles says, gesturing to Peter. 

“None taken,” Peter returns, something akin to an evil smile appearing on his face. “You go with Derek, I’m not much for patrols.” 

Derek tenses next to him, and okay, he can’t really be that bad to hang out with. 

“Well, if it’s not too much of a hardship.” Stiles snaps, getting to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

“Well,” Derek starts, but Emily interrupts him. 

“Guess it’s time to go now.” she says brightly, tugging Stiles’ arm and dragging him out of the loft, leaving him barely enough time to throw a goodbye to Scott. 

Weird.

** 

“Are we going on patrol, or are we going to go loiter outside the movie theatre and snap our fingers?” Stiles smirks, coming down the steps from his front door. Derek is leaning against the passenger side of his car, looking like he’s Danny Zuko coming to pick Sandy up for the drive-in. He even has the leather jacket. 

Derek rolls his eyes. “Get in the car, idiot.” 

“Touchy.” Stiles throws back, but there’s no venom in either of their voices. It’s friendly, and it hits Stiles a little suddenly how much their relationship has changed. A couple years ago, Derek would have climbed in Stiles’ window and dragged him out for patrol. But this, this is a friendship. 

This is Stiles letting himself into the loft when his dad is on shift and he doesn’t want to be alone. This is Derek coming home to see Stiles sprawled out on the couch doing research and instead of throwing him out Derek just tells him to get his feet off the table. Sometimes Derek joins him; they don’t talk, just sit in companionable silence. It’s nice, and it’s easy, and Stiles has come to crave those quiet moments. 

Looking over at Derek in the driver’s seat, eyes focused on the road, he realizes that it’s all going to change. He’s going let himself into the loft and Emily is going to be on the couch when he gets there. Her and Derek’s conversations are going to invade the silence he’s gotten used to. Their relationship is going to weave it’s way into his life, and he really, really, doesn’t want it to. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Derek frowns, glancing over at him. Stiles jumps, slamming his elbow into the door. 

“W-what?” he stammers, straightening in his seat, and Derek looks even more concerned. 

“You’re really quiet.” Derek comments, and now Stiles is frowning. 

“I thought you wanted me to be quiet.” 

“You’ve never listened before.” 

“Well, I’m listening now.” Stiles snaps, effectively ending the conversation. Derek looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just fixes his gaze back on the road. 

Stiles doesn’t know why he’s angry, but he is. Maybe it’s because Derek doesn’t normally do the whole ‘concerned friend’ thing. 

When Stiles first got back to himself after the nogitsune, he was quiet a lot. He didn’t talk, mostly for fear that the words that came out of his mouth would belong to someone else. It’s the reason he gravitated towards Derek, because he knew that Derek wouldn’t barrage him with an endless stream of questions, wouldn’t give him sad looks when he thought Stiles wasn’t looking. He found himself spending more time at the loft then he did at home, happy to sit in silence with Derek for hours. Derek never asked him if he was okay, or if he needed anything. He just kept him company. 

He’s not used to comforting words or concerned looks from Derek, and maybe it’s not something he should be mad about, but it’s definitely unsettling. 

“We’re here.” Derek says, drawing Stiles out of his thoughts. His anger has faded now, and he turns to apologize, only to be met with a view of Derek’s back as he climbs out of the car. So now Derek’s mad. Great. 

Stile opens the passenger side door, tumbling out in his haste to catch up to the quickly retreating figure in front of him. “Derek!” 

Derek turns, a blank expression on his face. “What?” 

“Listen, I’m sorry I snapped at you.” 

“It’s fine, Stiles.” 

“No, it’s not, it’s just -” 

“I said it’s fine.” Derek growls, hands clenching into fists at his sides. Stiles stops in his tracks, mouth falling open. 

Derek doesn’t wait for him to respond, just turns on his heel and disappears into the treeline. 

Stiles sighs, resigns himself to a very awkward night of patrolling the treeline, and follows Derek’s retreating figure into the preserve. 

** 

He’s running, feet pounding into the forest floor, lungs heaving. He stumbles on twigs, but he knows he can’t stop, knows he has to get away from whatever’s chasing him. There’s low growl coming from behind him, the sound pushing him forward. 

It has to have been hours now, tears are stinging at his eyes and his legs are burning. He feels weak, like he’s about to pass out, and he’s sure he’s going to collapse when the growling stops. He stops running, falling to his knees in a small clearing. He lifts his head, letting his eyes adjust to his surroundings, and that’s when he realizes something that makes his heart stop. 

He’s been here before. It’s identical to the clearing from his dream, the tall trees surrounding him are exactly the same. His heart rate picks up as he spins around, searching for the high branch he’s sure Derek is about to descend from, eyes glowing red. He’s still turning when a twig snaps behind him. 

He tries to run, he tries to get away, but his legs give way, his face colliding with the dirt. 

Everything moves in slow motion after that. He tries again to get away, crawling across the forest floor, nails digging into the dirt. He feels large hands wrap around his waist and he starts screaming, struggling in his attacker’s arms. Whoever’s grabbing him is saying something, but he can’t hear it over the sound of his own voice calling for help. 

Eventually his voice cracks, and dissolves into sobs that wrack his entire body. He feels the fight drain out of him all out at once, and he prepares for whatever torture is about to befall him when he hears the attacker’s voice. 

“Stiles,” he’s saying, and he sounds terrified. “Stiles, you’re okay, it’s me.” 

It’s the last thing he hears before he slips out of consciousness, but it calms him. He’d know that voice anywhere. 

Derek. 

**

He wakes slumped in the passenger seat of the Camaro, Derek’s jacket draped over him like a blanket. For a second, he can’t remember how he got there, but then it comes rushing back to him. The terror he’d felt, the thing that had chased him. It had felt so real. But it can’t have been, because he’s here, he’s safe. Derek isn’t the Alpha anymore, and he isn’t trying to kill Stiles. Still… 

He shakes off the thought, moving to sit up straight, but his body has other ideas. His chest clenches and cramps, jolts of pain surging through his body. He lets out a whimper, and it makes Derek jump.

“Stiles?” he asks cautiously, but he doesn’t turn to face him. 

“Yeah,” Stiles replies, barely a whisper. His voice is hoarse from screaming, and speaking at all feels like he’s raking nails across his vocal chords. 

“You okay?” Derek sounds nervous, like he’s worried the wrong word will set Stiles off. Stiles nods, and Derek relaxes slightly. “We’re almost at your house.” 

Stiles nods again, closing his eyes. He catalogues his injuries slowly; his legs and chest ache, there’s some small cuts on his face, but the worst of it is his ankle, which is throbbing painfully. He must have sprained it running, or maybe when he fell. He can’t remember the details. 

It’s terrifying, because it’s like the nogitsune all over again; he’s missing time. He remembers fighting with Derek in outside of the car, remembers Derek storming off. He remembers following him into the preserve and then… nothing. He doesn’t remember anything else, his memory starts up again mid-stride as he’s running. What caused those gaps? 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when the car comes to a stop outside of his house. Derek turns to face him now, eyebrows pulled together in a frown. 

“Your dad isn’t home.” he says, concern lacing his tone. 

“Yeah, he has the night shift.” Stiles explains, struggling to sit up straight. “It’s fine, I’ll just go to bed. I need the sleep.” 

Derek’s frown deepens at that, and he shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone like this.” 

“I’m fine,” Stiles retorts, reaching for the door. He proves himself wrong, though, when he groans at the shock of pain that ripples through him when he moves, and Derek gives him a reproachful look. 

“I’m staying here with you.” He says firmly, getting out of the car before Stiles can argue further.  
Seconds later, the passenger door opens, and before he can protest he’s being swept into Derek’s arms. He squeaks indignantly, but Derek keeps moving, carrying Stiles like bride over the threshold of his house. He carries him through the foyer, and up the stairs to his room. Derek lays him down on his bed gently, straightening up above him. 

“What the hell happened to him?” Emily yells from the doorway, and shit, Stiles had totally forgotten she was going to be home. 

“I’m fine,” he croaks, at the same time Derek says, “He passed out on patrol.” 

“Hallway. Now.” She growls, stomping out of the room. Derek sends another worried look at Stiles before following her, shutting the door behind him. 

Stiles strains to hear their conversation, but the door muffles it enough that he only picks up a few words. He hears his name a couple times, and ‘disaster’ and he thinks Emily says ‘you really blew it’, but he can’t be sure. 

He tries to catch more but he finds himself drifting off to sleep. The door opens again, Derek and Emily re-entering the room.  
The last thing he sees before he sleeps is Derek’ face looking down at him sadly, eyes shining with tears. 

**


	3. Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’re here.” Derek says loudly, turning away from the pack and towards the empty clearing. The rest of the pack turns with him, and Stiles can see them all tensing for a fight; next to him Kira tightens her grip on her sword. He suddenly feels like he made a mistake coming, he’s completely defenseless. 
> 
> It’s too late to run now though, as the new pack enters the clearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the purposes of this fic, witches are weakened by iron. Sorry if that conflicts with your theories and/or beliefs
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful [mandi](http://dude-its-bcn-hlls.tumblr.com) for looking over this chapter for me

It’s a been a week since the incident, and they still haven’t talked about it. 

When Stiles woke up, Derek was gone, and Emily was passed out in a chair next to his bed. When he’d asked her where Derek was, she’d said he had to leave to prepare for the arrival of the incoming pack, and Stiles had tried not to feel disappointed. Afterwards, he’d been too nervous to ask Derek about it, and since Derek hadn’t brought it up… 

It was killing him. He wanted to know the truth, wanted to know if Derek had seen something. Had something really been after him in the forest, or had he imagined the whole thing? 

He shakes his head, coming back to the scene in front of him. The entire pack is gathered at the property line, having received word that the new pack would be arriving today. Scott and Derek are talking in hushed tones, Stiles is too far away to hear, but they both look worried. He frowns, turning back to the conversation he’d been having with Kira. 

“I hope they’re not hostile.” she’s saying, sharpening her sword. “I’d hate for it to come to a fight.” She grins up at him sweetly, and Stiles has never been more scared of her. 

“Yeah,” he returns weakly, doing his best to return a smile. “Me too.” 

“They’re here.” Derek says loudly, turning away from the pack and towards the empty clearing. The rest of the pack turns with him, and Stiles can see them all tensing for a fight; next to him Kira tightens her grip on her sword. He suddenly feels like he made a mistake coming, he’s completely defenseless. 

It’s too late to run now though, as the new pack enters the clearing. 

The first of the wolves to come into sight is a woman. She’s tall, maybe 5’10”, with dark skin and bold features. Her hair is dark and braided, falling just above her waist. She’s beautiful, with the kind of face you remember, and Stiles imagines that gives her an advantage in negotiations such as this one. 

She’s followed by three more women, twin blondes and a brunette. The blondes are average looking, in height and features, and they remind him a little too much of Aiden and Ethan for him to trust them. Though, if he’s scared of any of them, it’s the brunette in the back. She’s small, no taller than Lydia, and if he goes by appearance alone, she shouldn’t intimidate him at all. 

It’s her eyes. 

She’s only about twenty feet away from him now, and he can see them clearly. They’re a piercing blue, clear as the ocean, and beautiful. But behind the beauty, he sees the hostility there. She looks ready to strike at any moment, and there’s a wicked smile on her lips that says she would enjoy doing it.  
Stiles looks back to Kira, who, when she meets his eye, looks just as nervous as he feels. They both turn back to face the women when the Alpha speaks. 

“I see you’ve prepared for our arrival.” She says easily, coming to a stop ten feet away from where Scott and Derek are standing. 

“We protect our territory.” Scott replies evenly, and by the surprise on the woman’s face, he’s revealed his status as Alpha. 

“So young,” she whispers, eyes wide. “You have taken this power?” 

“No.” 

“A true Alpha.” she sighs, tone almost reverent. 

“What brings you to Beacon Hills?” Scott says, clearly growing impatient. 

The woman smiles. “My name is Tanya, this is Beth and Amanda.” she says, gesturing to the twins, who smile wryly. Next, she points to the brunette, who’s wicked smile is still in place. “And this is Danielle. We have come here to meet you, Scott Mccall. We have heard many great things about your pack and those you have conquered.” 

“Conquered is a strong word.” Scott comments, frowning. Tanya smiles. 

“Regardless, you have defended yourself well against powerful enemies. We have come seeking your help.” 

Scott raises his eyebrows. “Help with what, exactly?” 

“A witch has invaded our home.” Danielle says, stepping forward. Her voice is high and lofty, floating across the clearing like music. “She has run us out of our own territory, and we alone are not enough to take on such a powerful force.” 

“A witch?” Derek asks, incredulous. 

Danielle throws a harsh look at him. “Do you think we are lying?” 

“No,” Derek answers, shaking his head. “But witches don’t attack for no reason. They’re vengeful beings, they attack when they feel they’ve been wronged.” 

“You think we asked for this?” Danielle snarls, and Tanya has to hold out a hand to keep her from advancing. 

“He’s right, Danielle.” she says calmly, but there’s fire in her eyes now. She turns back to Scott. “She claims that the territory belongs to her ancestors, and that we are the intruders.” her tone is harsh now, and Stiles can tell how offended she is by the situation. “But she is a liar. My family have lived on that land for generations, it is mine by blood.” 

Something flashes in Danielle’s eyes at that, but she doesn’t say anything, just crosses her arms. 

Scott nods thoughtfully. “I think I need to discuss this further with my pack. We will talk again tomorrow, but you are welcome in Beacon Hills for the night.” 

“Thank you. I look forward to speaking with you again.” Tanya smiles, leading the pack back in the direction they came from. 

Everyone is still for moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for an attack. When it doesn’t come, Scott turns to Derek, who smiles and pats him on the shoulder. 

The rest of the pack relaxes, Erica even cheers. 

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Scott asks, looking to Stiles.

“You were great.” Stiles confirms, smiling back. “Very Alpha-y.” 

Scott beams, pulling Stiles into a hug. “Thanks for being here.”

“I’m here for you, man. Always.” he says into Scott’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly. 

They break apart, and Scott turns to the rest of the pack. 

“So,” he starts, getting their attention. “I think we should help them.” 

“I don’t know,” Isaac says, examining his fingernails. “I don’t trust that short girl. She looked ready to pounce.” 

Stiles nods his agreement, he doesn’t trust her either, but he sees Derek shake his head. 

“Yes, but she isn’t the Alpha. Tanya has control. I think if we need to trust anyone, it’s her.” he says, to a murmur of agreement from the others. 

“She seemed like she had good intentions.” Boyd adds, his expression as neutral as always. 

“I trust her.” Scott agrees, and that’s the end of it. If there’s anything that’s shocked Stiles about his best friend’s transformation into an Alpha, it’s the faith the pack has in him. They trust his judgement explicitly, so when he says he trusts Tanya, the pack is behind him. 

“We can meet with her at the loft tomorrow afternoon.” Derek says, and the conversation dissolves into details and arrangements. Stiles tunes it out, choosing instead to focus on the events from the week before. 

He still hasn’t been able to remember anything else, and he’s not entirely sure what he does remember wasn’t a hallucination. For one thing, whatever he thought was chasing him never made an appearance; in his dream, it had been Derek, but Derek came to his rescue in the preserve. But what would cause him to hallucinate like that? 

He’s making a list of possibilities -poison, curses, who knows, maybe he’s finally losing it - when Emily taps softly on his shoulder. 

“Still gonna give me a ride home or are you gonna sit here and brood all day?” she teases, but he can hear the concern underlying it. A look around the clearing tells him he’s been sitting there for longer than he thought, most of the pack is gone, only Derek and Scott remain. 

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.” 

**

“Stop doing that.” Emily hisses, laying a hand over Stiles’. He’d been scratching at his arm, a nervous habit he’d had since he was a kid. 

“Sorry.” Stiles mumbles, clenching his hands in his lap. He’s not happy about this plan. In fact, he’s pissed. 

The pack - well, the werewolves - had decided that the best plan to help Tanya was to go with her to her territory and take on the witch there. Stiles had argued that it was a stupid plan, considering she has the home advantage, but as per usual, no one had listened. The wolves had left that morning, filing out of Derek’s loft like soldiers to war, and Stiles had never felt so useless in his life. 

“You should get some sleep, they won’t be back until tomorrow.” she suggests, her voice soft. 

Stiles shake his head. “I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.The last time you were like this -” Emily stops short, sighing. When she speaks again, she sounds exhausted. “Please, Stiles.” 

When he meets her eyes, she looks so worn down, so broken, that he can’t resist her. 

“Okay,” he concedes. “Okay, I’m going.” 

**

_It’s dark, almost impossibly so. Stiles waits for his eyes to adjust, blinking into the night, but they never do. Blindly, he runs a hand along the wall next to him, trying to identify his surroundings. He keeps his hand on the wall to his right, moving forward slowly. He makes it about two feet before his nose encounters a wall directly in front of him. ___

_“Ow,” he whispers, massaging the injured appendage. He continues his walk along the wall he’d run into, making another two feet before there’s another corner. He soon comes to the conclusion he’s in a square room, and further inspection reveals no entrance or exit. ___

_So how the hell did he get in here? ___

_He takes a seat against one of the walls, trying to slow his breathing. He knows if he panics, he’ll run out of oxygen before anyone can come and get him. ___

_If. ___

_If anyone comes to get him. ___

_Okay, now he’s panicking. He feels his heart beat rising, so loud he swears he can hear it echoing in the small room. He runs his hand through his hair, letting it stick up at all rends. Oh god, he’s going to die in here. ___

_He closes his eyes, tries again to focus his breathing. He takes deep long breaths, letting the sound fill the room. It’s the only sound filling the silence… until it isn’t. ___

_Suddenly there’s another person breathing, low ragged breaths that he can feel on his face. His heart starts beating so fast he’s afraid it’ll fall out of his chest and he starts hyperventilating. He’s petrified, but not knowing what else is in there is eating him alive. ___

_Slowly he opens his eyes. ___

_And looks straight into bright red irises. ___

**

Stiles wakes up covered in sweat, heart racing. He sits up, taking quick inventory of his surroundings, sees that he’s still in Derek’s room where he’d fallen asleep. He looks down, counts his fingers twice. Normal. 

He’s okay. It’s okay. 

He’s still trying to get his breathing under control when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Stiles?” Emily asks, her voice muffled by the door. Stiles gets to his feet slowly, crossing the room and swinging open the door. Emily looks a little panicked, and he feels his eyes widen at the blood staining the front of her shirt. She follows his eyeline and does a double take, like she’s just noticing it now. “Oh, that’s not mine.” 

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Whose is it?” 

“Pack’s back.” she says in lieu of an answer, turning to go downstairs. Stiles follows wordlessly, running through scenarios in his mind. Did someone get hurt? Did someone die? Whose blood is on his sister’s shirt? They reach the bottom of the stairs and some of the anxiety falls away. 

Most of the pack appears uninjured, though Erica looks like she’s going to be washing blood out of her hair for a few hours. Scott, Derek, Boyd, and Isaac are gathered around something Stiles can’t see, and if he goes by Scott’s defensive stance, it’s nothing good. 

“What happened?” Scott turns at the sound of his voice, allowing Stiles to catch a glimpse of what’s behind him. “Is that Danielle?” 

The group of wolves surrounding her disperse then, revealing the short brunette tied to a chair behind them, unconscious. Tanya is standing next to her, looking slightly annoying, but not murderous, so Stiles assumes she’s okay with it. 

“Yeah,” Scott says a little sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Turns out she was the witch.” 

“I told you we shouldn’t trust her.” Isaac chirps, looking smug. Scott rolls his eyes, but Tanya laughs. 

“I wish I’d had you around when I met her.” she says, smiling at him. He returns it easily, winking. Stiles rolls his eyes at that, stepping off the staircase and into the room. 

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, to mostly confused looks from the pack. He sighs. “We don’t have one do we?” 

Scott looks guilty again, and Derek just looks pissed off. 

“We didn’t exactly see this coming.” he snaps, glaring at Stiles. 

“Fine, but the point is, we have a witch tied up in your apartment and no game plan.” Stiles fires back, returning the glare. 

“I like him.” Danielle says, and everyone whips around to look at her. She’s smiling wickedly again, but the chains around her are - thank god - still in place. “What I don’t like, is iron chains.” 

“No offense, sweetie, but your comfort isn’t exactly our concern.” Erica quips, smiling sweetly. 

Derek shoots a reproachful look at Erica, then returns his stare to Danielle. “What do you want?” 

“I want my home back.” she says simply, shrugging. 

“That land belongs to my family.” Tanya snarls, advancing. “We’ve been there for generations. You have no claim to it, witch.”

“They stole it from me!” Danielle screams, thrashing against her chains. She turns her gaze on Derek, and Stiles is taken aback when he notices them glowing a bright purple. “Your family is no better, Hale. Your ancestors helped them take my land from me. They drove me from my home by force, they said I had no right to it. Like I was the intruder.” 

Her skin is giving off a soft light now, like fire is burning just below her skin. 

“You’ll pay the price, when your mate turns against you.” she snarls, and Stiles freezes. Mate? As in, his sister? His eighteen year old sister? He looks at Derek bewilderedly, and the look he gets back is one of pure horror. “I’ve planted the seed already. The nightmares should have started by now. Eventually, they’ll begin to think they’re real. They won’t trust you any longer. They’ll leave you. You’ll be driven out of your own life, Derek Hale. Just as I was driven from my -” 

Tanya surges forward with a scream, slashing Danielle’s throat. The room goes quiet, the pack shocked into silence. Slowly, the light fades from underneath Danielle’s skin, her eyes reverting to their original blue, the life fading out of them. Tanya straightens up, wiping the blood from her face. 

“Well, that’s settled, then.” she says matter-of-factly, turning to Scott. “Thank you for the hospitality. We’ll be gone by sunset.” 

Scott just nods, mouth hanging slightly open. She breezes past him and out of the loft, slamming the door behind her. There’s a small moment of silence where no one says anything, then Stiles turns on Derek. 

“Mates?”

**


	4. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mates?” Stiles screeches, voice pitching up several octaves. “My sister is your mate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one took me a while, but it was my first time writing smut, and I didn't want to mess it up. As you can see, the rating has changed. 
> 
> I want to thank you all for being patient while I dragged my heels updating, you're all wonderful. 
> 
> I would also like to thank ave-malia for giving me some tips on writing smut, you're an angel, hun.

“Mates?” Stiles screeches, voice pitching up several octaves. “My sister is your mate?” 

“We should go.” Scott says before Derek can answer. Him and the rest of the pack head for the door in silence, Boyd patting Derek sympathetically on the shoulder as he passes. Derek, for his part, looks terrified. His eyes are wide, lips pressed together as if he’s trying desperately to keep himself from talking. Stiles narrows his eyes, and Derek swallows nervously. It’s kind of cute, actually. 

Wait, no. Stiles is mad. He is mad at Derek, and it no way finds him attractive. Not at all. What is happening to him? He’s so caught up in chastising himself that he almost doesn’t notice Emily following the others out of the loft. 

“Hey, why are you leaving?” Emily turns, looking annoyed. 

“This isn’t about me.” she says plainly, shrugging. 

“This is all about you!” Stiles shrieks, waving his hands. Emily only rolls her eyes before turning on her heel and leaving before Stiles can argue further. He lets out a frustrated huff, then turns to face Derek, who’s standing about ten feet away from him. 

He takes a deep breath. “Okay, so while I realize that you don’t get much of a choice in the matter, this is not cool. She can’t make that commitment.” 

“She’s eighteen.” Derek replies cooly, meeting Stiles’ eyes. He looks hurt, like Stiles has just slapped him. 

“It’s not about that.” Stiles says softly, looking down. 

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So what is it about?” 

“It’s just-” Stiles starts, but he can’t finish. He wracks his mind for a reason, for something to say, but he comes up blank. 

“It’s just what?” Derek is yelling now, stepping towards Stiles. “What’s the problem here, Stiles? Because it clearly isn’t about her. Am I too old for her? Am I too fucked up? Is it that you don’t trust me? What is it, Stiles? Why are you so angry?” 

“Because it should be me!” 

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and suddenly, everything becomes clear. He hadn’t been angry, he’d been jealous. The whole time he’d seen Emily with him, he’d been wishing it was him. Maybe subconsciously, but now that he’s said it out loud, he knows. 

“Stiles,” Derek says, barely a whisper. Stiles lifts his head to meet his gaze, and Derek is staring back at him sadly. Oh god, Stiles has made a terrible mistake. Derek is in love with his sister, and he’s just essentially confessed his love for the guy.

“I’ll just go, then.” he mutters, guilt and shame pooling in his stomach like acid. 

“Stiles.” Derek repeats, more forceful now. “It’s not her.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“It’s not Emily. She’s not my mate.” 

Stiles blinks. “But the witch, she - oh.” 

Stiles steps forward, closing the gap between them so that they’re standing only inches apart. He lifts his hand to Derek’s chest, letting it rest over his heart. He closes his eyes, focuses until he can feel Derek’s heartbeat under his palm. 

“Say it.” he whispers, eyes still closed. Derek lays a hand over his, leaning in close enough that Stiles can feel his breath across his cheek. 

“It’s you, Stiles.” he says softly, sending a shiver down Stiles’ spine. “It’s always been you.” 

He’s not lying, his heartbeat steady and sure under Stiles’ fingertips. He barely has time to breathe out a sigh of relief before his mouth is crashing against Derek’s. 

It’s perfect, Derek’s lips fitting against his perfectly, like they were made for each other. The kiss is slow, but firm, the intent behind it clear. For a moment, just a moment, Stiles lets himself forget everything. 

He lets the memory of the Nogitsune be replaced with the way Derek’s hands are settling on his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into his skin. He lets every heartbreak pale under the gravity of Derek’s promise to him, feels every night he went to bed crying disappear as Derek kisses him. He lets Derek become his past, his present, his future; his everything. In that moment, Stiles belongs to him so utterly and completely it sends a shock down his spine at the realization. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t move from where he and Derek are pressed together. “You know,” he says, a little breathless. “I’m still mad at you.” 

“Uh huh.” Derek replies nonchalantly, focusing instead on pressing kisses down Stiles’ throat. 

“I’m serious.” Stiles pouts, then moans as Derek starts sucking a mark just above his collarbone. “That’s not fair.”  
Derek huffs a laugh against his skin, pulling away to look Stiles in the eye. “Sorry.” 

Stiles doesn’t answer, just kisses him again, trying to convey what he wants without words. He drags his tongue along Derek’s lower lip, and when Derek sighs at the contact he takes to invitation to lick into his mouth. 

They stay like that for what feels like years, pressed together in the middle of the loft. Stiles’ hands have settled on Derek’s neck, while the werewolf’s hands haven’t settled, roaming across Stiles’ back and his hips, leaving fire in their wake. It’s like their own little universe, where nothing but the two of them matter, there’s nothing else except the slide of their mouths against each other. 

Then Derek is gripping the back of Stiles’ legs, pulling them up to wrap around his waist, and oh god this is a hundred times better. Stiles can feel Derek’s dick pressing into his ass, already as hard as he is. Stiles breaks the kiss to moan at the contact throwing his head back. Derek takes the opportunity to latch onto his neck again, and Stiles doesn’t even notice that they’ve been moving until he’s being laid onto Derek’s bed. 

He crawls back so his head is resting on pillows, Derek hovering over him, hands on either side of Stiles’ head. The space between them is charged, the inches between them radiating the heat from both their bodies. For a moment, Stiles just stares at him, takes it in. 

Derek’s pupils are blown wide, but his expression is surprisingly soft, a small smile playing at his lips. Stiles reaches up slowly, letting his hands settle on cheekbones, nails raking through days old stubble. He traces Derek’s bottom lip with his thumb, and Derek sighs at the contact, closing his eyes. 

“Stiles,” he breathes, voice hoarse from lack of use. 

“Mmhm” Stiles murmurs, still mapping Derek’s face with his hands. 

“You know what this is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is a big deal, Stiles. You’re it for me. You could leave, you could move on, but you’re all I’m ever going to have. If you don’t want that, you should get out now, it’ll be easier for both of us.” 

“Derek, look at me.” Stiles says firmly. “I want this. I want you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and see how you look when you’re sleeping. I want you to pick me up in your ridiculous car and take me out on a date. I want to walk down the aisle one day, and see you waiting at the altar wearing a tux. But more than that, I want to know you’re going to be there when I wake up from a nightmare. I want to know that you’re going to be there on the hard days to hold me. I want all of you, Derek. Forever.” 

“Thank you.” Derek exhales heavily, leaning down to catch Stiles’ lips in a bruising kiss. The tenderness of the moment turns heated as Derek bites down on Stiles’ bottom lip, eliciting a loud groan from Stiles. 

Derek has placed himself neatly between Stiles’ legs, giving him the leverage he needs to grind his hips down, making them both moan at the contact. Stiles is pulling at the hem of Derek’s shirt, rucking it up to his armpits. They break the kiss long enough for both of them to rip their shirts off, mouths colliding messily once they’re both shirtless. 

Derek’s bare chest feels like a furnace against him, stomach muscles twitching as he moves against Stiles. They’re pressed so closely together that Stiles can feel every inch of Derek. He can feel his arm muscles flexing as he holds himself up, can feel the muscles in his legs moving to drag his hips against Stiles’, can feel the hard line of Derek’s erection pressing into his thigh. It’s too much for him to focus on, and it’s not exactly helping that there isn’t any blood left in his brain. 

He’s so lost in his mind that he doesn’t come back to reality until Derek starts pressing sloppy kisses down his torso. 

“Where’re you going?” he slurs, barely managing to get the words out. 

“Gonna blow you.” Derek murmurs against his hipbone, punctuating the statement by sucking a mark into his skin, and Stiles almost comes right then. He slams his head back into the pillow as Derek’s fingers work at his zipper, knowing he won’t last long if he watches this. 

He feels rather than sees Derek pull his jeans off slowly, the cold air in the loft making the hair on his legs stand up. It’s agonizing, the drag of denim against his skin, because he knows what’s coming. Derek takes his time, tossing the jeans to the side, before pulling his underwear down just as slowly. 

When he’s finally naked, he opens his eyes to look at Derek, and regrets it immediately. The look on Derek’s face is predatory as he stares down at Stiles. His dick twitches in response, and that seems to draw Derek’s attention, given the way his eyes grow dark and hungry. He watches with rapt attention as Derek lowers his head again, hovering over him. 

Never breaking eye contact, Derek flicks his tongue over the slit of his dick, and Stiles has to clench his stomach to keep his orgasm at bay. Derek smiles easily, this time swirling his tongue around the head of his dick. Stiles throws his head back again with a moan, closing his eyes. It’s almost too much, the sensation of Derek’s mouth on him, but he wants this to last, so he takes deep breaths.  
Now Derek is sucking gently on the head of his dick, and he doesn’t move for a moment, just keeps Stiles trapped in the wet heat of his mouth, occasionally running his tongue across the slit, tasting the precome gathering there. Eventually, he lowers his head, taking Stiles further into his mouth. He starts a steady rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, and Stiles can’t resist, opening his eyes to stare down at him, only to find Derek’s eyes on his already. They keep eye contact as Derek swallows him down again, tongue tracing a vein on the underside of his dick. It’s too much, and Stiles can feel his orgasm pooling in his gut, but he can’t bring himself to look away. 

It’s when Derek relaxes his throat and takes him down to the base that Stiles finally comes, his orgasm rushing through him so quickly he can’t even find the words to warn Derek. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, swallowing easily, licking gently at Stiles’ dick until he’s too sensitive, and Stiles has to tug at his hair to drag him into a messy kiss. 

He can taste himself on Derek’s tongue, and he finds himself moaning into the kiss, knotting his fingers in Derek’s hair. 

“Why are you still wearing pants?” he pouts when they eventually break for air, tugging at the waistband of Derek’s jeans. Derek laughs quietly, but takes the hint, standing at the edge of the bed and practically tearing off his jeans and underwear, appearing over Stiles only seconds later. 

“What do you want?” he asks quietly, eyes dark and lips swollen, and Stiles doesn’t hesitate in his answer. 

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Derek groans, pressing his face into Stiles’ neck. “God, Stiles, do you even hear yourself?” 

“You asked.” Stiles shrugs, eliciting a muffled laugh from Derek, and it dawns on Stiles how easy this is. He’s about to have sex with Derek freaking Hale and he’s making jokes - and even stranger, Derek is laughing at them. It’s not awkward, or rushed, not like he ever imagined his first time being. It’s comfortable, like they’ve been together for years, and he feels his heart swell in his chest.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, lifting his head, a quizzical expression lighting in his eyes. “Your heartbeat.” 

“What about it?” 

“It was racing before, but it’s normal now.” 

“I trust you.” he says easily, and he doesn’t have to hear his heartbeat to know it’s true. He pulls Derek down to him, kisses him gently. “Now get on with it.” 

Derek nods, leaning away from Stiles to rummage in the nightstand. Stiles closes his eyes, breathing deeply. He’s not nervous, not at all actually, just a little overwhelmed by the moment. He focuses on the sound of Derek’s breathing to ground himself, noticing for the first time how calming it is to him. 

He snaps back to attention when he hears a cap click open, opening his eyes to see Derek coating his fingers in lube. Stiles watches breathlessly as Derek lowers himself down between Stiles’ legs again, pressing a cold finger against his entrance. Derek meets his eye, and when Stiles nods, he presses in slowly. 

It’s doesn’t hurt much, it’s more of a stretch than a burn as Derek pressed his finger in and out slowly. Derek crooks his finger, touching something in him that sends sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. 

“Do that again.” he moans, eyes fluttering shut when Derek obeys his command, hitting his prostate with such precision that he feels his dick start to get hard again. Derek takes the response as permission to add another finger, and this time it stings a little bit as Derek stretches him open slowly. He takes his time, scissoring his fingers inside Stiles until the pleasure replaces the burn, and Stiles is nodding at Derek to add a third finger. 

It hurts, it does, but he wants this, wants Derek, so he clenches his jaw and breathes, and then Derek is hitting his prostate again and he can’t remember why he was hurting in the first place. Derek pumps his fingers in and out of him, hitting his prostate almost every time, and Stiles is practically mewling, squirming under his touch. 

“Derek,” he pleads, eyes flying open to meet the werewolf’s gaze. Derek’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, and Stiles barely notices him nodding, sliding his fingers out of Stiles. He whines at the empty feeling, but then Derek is ripping open a condom, sliding it onto himself. Stiles watches hungrily as Derek slicks himself up, taking his place between Stiles’ legs and lining himself up. 

Derek’s mouth meets his in a tender kiss as he presses in slowly, swallowing the whimper that slips out of Stiles’ mouth at the burn. Derek moves slowly, pressing in carefully, mouth never leaving Stiles’. He breaks the kiss when he bottoms out, letting Stiles breath harshly as he adjusts. 

It’s a lot, Derek’s dick is a lot bigger than three fingers, and it takes him a minute to get used to feeling, the fullness. Eventually though, he feels the burn ease. “Move.” 

Derek pulls back slowly before thrusting back in, and the friction makes Stiles keen, hips pressing down instinctively, chasing the feeling. Derek does it again, a little faster, and Stiles lets out a noise he would be embarrassed about if he could focus on anything other than the pleasure rippling through his body.  
Derek sets a slow pace, thrusting into him languidly, hips rolling forward to meet Stiles’ easily. Stiles, to no surprise of his own, can’t keep quiet - small, needy noises slipping past his lips and echoing in the silence of the room. He finds his attention fixed on Derek, though, watching the way his face contorts in pleasure as he moves - if he listens closely, he can hear Derek moaning softly when he thrusts into Stiles. Eventually, though, the slow steady pace isn’t enough. 

“C’mon, Derek.” Stiles whines, grinding his hips down to meet Derek’s thrust. “I thought I told you to fuck me.” 

Derek growls, snapping his hips forward, and Stiles sees stars. Derek continues to pick up the pace, thrusting into him forcefully, and the only sounds in the room are Stiles’ choked moans and the slapping of their hips as they meet. Stiles’ dick is leaking precome onto his stomach, but he can’t bring himself to reach down and touch himself, his hand too busy scraping across Derek’s back, leaving scratch marks that won’t last. Derek is panting into the crook of his neck now, hips growing erratic. 

He must know he’s about to come, because he reaches down between them, hand circling Stiles’ aching dick, and pumping his fist in time with his thrusts. It doesn’t take long for Stiles to come, shouting Derek’s name as his orgasm rips through him again, and for a second, he sees white. He barely registers Derek’s thrusts speeding up as he comes inside him with a groan, head falling onto Stiles’ shoulder. 

They’re still for a moment, both of them coming down slowly, savouring the moment. The world feels hazy, like there’s a mist over everything. He doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours before Derek pulls out of him, all he knows is that he doesn’t like the feeling. He whines pitifully, and Derek laughs, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching for a shirt to wipe them both down with. 

Derek rolls off of him gently, though he doesn’t let the lack of contact last, pulling Stiles against him. Derek curls around him, hands snaking around his middle, and Stiles hums contentedly. His exhaustion hits him all at once, and it’s suddenly too much effort to keep his eyes open. 

The last thought he registers before he falls asleep is that falling asleep with Derek is something he wants to do for the rest of his life. 

** 

He wakes to the shrill sound of his phone ringing where it’s sitting on the nightstand. 

“Make it stop.” Derek groans, covering his head with a pillow. It’s so childish and unlike Derek that he lets out a huff of surprised laughter before reaching for his phone. 

“Erica!” he chirps, trying not to make it too obvious he’d just woken up, seeing as the alarm clock is telling him it’s two in the afternoon. 

“Listen, I’m glad you and Derek figured your shit out, but honestly, you could have moved the corpse from the living room before you jumped each other.” 

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one more chapter! That one's going to be an epilogue, and I should have it up in a couple days. Thanks for sticking around!


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek get their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize everyone is a couple, but I also don't care.

He’s brought back to reality when Emily finally gives up and slaps him, the noise echoing around the room. “Get it together, Stilinski!” 

He shakes his head, blinking several times as the frustrated brunette in front of him comes into focus. “Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing at his cheek. 

“Wouldn’t want you to miss this.” she shrugs, grabbing his wrist. “Now, it’s time to go.” 

Emily tugs him out of his room and down the hall, nails digging into his wrist like she’s afraid he’s going to run for the hills. He sighs heavily, lets himself be tugged along like a dog on a leash until he spots his dad at the top of the staircase. 

“Son.” he says solemnly, and Stiles stifles a laugh. The whole situation had baffled his dad from the start, and at first he had been apprehensive at the very least. But Stiles knows he’s just putting on an act now, knows that Derek and his dad watch baseball and drink beer together every Thursday night - without inviting Stiles. He shoots him a knowing smirk, and gets an easy smile in return. “You ready?” 

“I’ve been ready for a long time, dad.” he returns calmly, taking the arm offered to him. Emily fluffs her hair, and when she turns back to Stiles, she’s grinning widely. 

“Let’s do this.” 

Stiles hears music start up outside, floating up the stairs to where Emily is now slowly descending. He wills himself to follow, his legs moving beneath him automatically. He follows her through the house, taking it all in. 

Him and Derek had lived in the loft for a few years while Stiles was in college, but eventually they’d decided to fix up the Hale house and move in there. There’s pictures of the two of them hanging on almost every surface, joined by group pictures of the pack and pictures of his dad and Derek’s family. It’s home, has been or almost two years now, and Stiles feels tears welling in his eyes already. 

Ahead of him, Emily swings open the front door, letting the sunny day outside flood into the foyer. She steps outside, dress billowing behind her as the wind from outside catches the hem. Stiles and his dad follow, arms linked. At first, the sun blinds him, but once he adjusts he takes in the scene in front him. 

There’s a path of grass between two sections of chairs, filled with his friends and family who have all turned to face him. He barely sees them though, his attention fixed on the man at the end of the aisle. 

The first thing he notices is the stubble, and he breaks into wide grin. Derek had argued with him, saying that a formal occasion called for him to shave, but Stiles had insisted he keep it, and he’s a little proud that he managed to convince him. Beard aside, Derek looks amazing. He’s fixed Stiles with a blinding grin, eyes sparkling in the sunlight, and he’s wearing a suit that fits him so well that Stiles almost wants to marry his tailor instead. 

Almost. 

Slowly, he descends the stairs from the porch, following his sister down the aisle. He smiles at Scott standing next to Derek, and his best friend smiles back widely. He’s already got a ring on his finger - Stiles finds Kira in the crowd easily, shooting her a smile as well. Allison and Lydia are holding hands where they’re seated next to each other in the front row beside Boyd and Erica, who appear to be joined at the hip. He turns his head back to his sister and catches her blowing Isaac a kiss, which he happily pretends to catch. Stiles smiles to himself happily. 

They made it. 

Emily reaches the altar, giving Derek a kiss on the cheek and a stern look before taking her place opposite him. Derek grins at her. Their friendship still baffles Stiles, but ever since he and Derek started dating she had been nothing but friendly to him, and they found out they had a lot in common. 

Stiles and his dad come to halt just in front of where Derek is standing, and Stiles looks to Melissa, who insisted on being the one to perform the ceremony. 

“And who gives this man away?” she asks brightly, smiling at Stiles. 

“I do.” his dad says roughly, and when Stiles turns to him there are tears in his eyes. Stiles leans in for a bone crushing hug, clapping his dad on the back when he lets go. John smiles at him, eyes shining, then turns to Derek. “Be good to him.” 

Derek nods seriously, and Stiles takes the cue to step forward and face him. 

“Now, I’m not concerned with all the official stuff.” Melissa says, waving a hand. “Would you like to say your vows?” 

Stiles nods, taking a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He clears his throat, then meets Derek’s heavy gaze. “I once told you I didn’t believe in love at first sight. I was wrong. I may not have known it, and I sure didn’t want to believe it, but I loved you from the day I met you. I loved the way you looked at me like I was a problem you wanted to solve. I loved the way you smiled at me when you thought I wasn’t looking. I loved the way you let your guard down around me slowly but surely until I finally met you. And you are beautiful. You’re beautiful when you wake up in the morning, when the sunlight meets your eyes. You’re beautiful when you fall asleep at night, you’re even beautiful when you snore. You’re beautiful when you talk about the past, you’re beautiful when you talk about the future, but most importantly, you’re beautiful when you tell me you love me. I could never ask for anything more than your love, and I can’t promise you a thousand days like today. But I can promise you forever.” 

There are tears gathering in Derek’s eyes, but he holds them back, and when Melissa nods at him, he takes Stiles’ hands. “Stiles, I was nothing when I met you. I was a broken shell of a man, and I was so lost. My life had ended, but that day in the woods, it started again. The minute I met you, I knew I would spend the rest of my life loving you. You’ve changed me so much, made me a better man. You make me smile when I’d rather cry, laugh when I’d rather scream. You bring out the best in me Stiles, and I can’t ask you for much, but I’ll ask for this; let me love you for the rest of my life, and any time after.” 

“Do you, Stiles Stilinski, take Derek Hale to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.”

“And do you, Derek Hale, take Stiles Stilinski to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

“Well, then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married! Kiss!” 

Stiles wastes no time, hands snaking around Derek’s neck, lips meeting his in a bruising kiss. Derek’s hands settle on his waist, pulling him close. They stay like that for a long time, until they hear coughs and whistles from the crowd behind them. 

“Forever.” he whispers, lips brushing against Derek’s. 

“Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I'm a sucker for a happy ending. 
> 
> I just want to thank everyone that helped out with this fic, and everyone that read it, I couldn't have done without you guys!


End file.
